CHAPTER 169: BETRAYAL PT 2

Ariston

I stood over Aelin’s unconscious body, sword still raised, every part of me screaming to run him through for what he did.

But the fire in me faltered—just a little.

Because he was right about one thing.

I had wanted answers for as long as I could remember.

And now, finally, he was ready to give them.

"Fine-" I lowered my sword. Not because I trusted him—but because I wanted to.

Because he was Rael. My father, in every way but blood.

And then I saw it.

The cut I’d landed—clean across his ribs—had begun to bleed. It was a slight cut, one I didn’t realize pierced through the skin but it did.

But the blood... wasn’t red.

It was black.

!!!

Thick. Ink-dark. Viscous.

My breath caught in my throat. My voice came out in a whisper, drenched in dread.

"Your blood... it’s—"

Rael glanced down, then clicked his tongue like I’d spilled water on his boots.

"You weren’t supposed to see that."

My legs felt cold. My pulse dropped.

"You..." I took a step back. "Is that why you left?"

His silence was answer enough.

"You chose them. The dark side. You’re an abyss worshipper?"

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

That single look, calm and unapologetic, was all the answer I needed.

Rage surged like wildfire through my veins. I gripped my sword tighter and roared as I lunged forward.

The fight began like thunder.

I aimed a two-handed slash straight across his chest. Rael dodged to the side without even blinking. I twisted with the momentum and went for his knees. He leapt, landing behind me, and kicked me square between the shoulder blades.

I flew forward, stumbled, caught myself on one knee. Before I could get up, a fist crashed into the side of my face. My vision split with stars.

I snarled and retaliated, swinging up in a wild arc. He ducked, caught my wrist, twisted it behind my back, and drove his knee into the back of my thigh.

Pain shot up my spine. I collapsed forward.

"GET OFF ME!" I screamed, throwing my elbow back into his ribs. He let go, and I tumbled, rolling twice in the rain-slick courtyard before springing back to my feet.

My breath was ragged. My ribs burned. But I wasn’t done.

I feinted left, came in low, then angled my blade upward at his shoulder. He caught it—with his palm—and with a flick of his wrist, twisted it sideways. I tried to wrench it back, but his other hand crashed into my gut. The air left my lungs in a sharp gasp. I stumbled again.

But I wouldn’t stop.

I came in again with everything I had—jab, spin, high slice, low cut. My blade blurred with speed and fury.

Rael blocked every strike. Effortless. Casual.

He wasn’t even using a weapon.

He knocked my sword aside and backhanded me across the jaw. I staggered.

He stepped in close and drove his knee into my sternum. I felt something crack. I dropped to one knee, coughing, pain blooming white-hot behind my ribs.

I could barely hold the sword.

He didn’t let up.

He kicked me in the shoulder—I crashed to the ground. Tried to roll away—he stomped down, pinning my wrist, nearly breaking it.

I screamed and slashed upward blindly with my free hand. He caught it mid-air and shoved me back, sending me skidding across the stone.

My fingers scraped at the edge of the courtyard’s pool, the water slick and cold.

I tried to stand—legs shaking, blood dripping from my lip and nose—but I couldn’t.

Rael slowly walked toward me. Not a single wound on him besides the black cut on his side. And even that had already stopped bleeding.

"You’re strong," he said. "Stronger than I expected." He shook his head back at me, "Then why are you holding back?"

I lifted my head, glaring through tears and sweat and blood.

"You... left me," I hissed. "For this. For them."

He didn’t respond.

I tried to rise again. My sword was too heavy. My body trembled. My knees gave way. I dropped to them, breathing ragged, broken.

"I trusted you," I spat, "and you turned into this?!"

He looked down at me.

Not gloating.

Just quiet.

Unmoved.

And then he turned his back to me, walking toward Aelin’s unconscious form.

Thunder cracked overhead like a warning from the sky itself.

The clouds that had been holding back all morning finally gave in. Rain fell, slow at first. I forced my arms underneath me.

Move!!!!

Every part of me screamed. My ribs felt like they were cracked through. My head throbbed where his backhand had landed, warm blood dripping down the side of my face and into the rain-catcher pool below me. Drops of my blood stained the white petal crimson directly.

Aelin was still unconscious. I saw Rael bend and gently lift her body off the ground, draping her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. The raindrops made her hair glisten silver.

My body trembled.

I pressed my palms into the slick stone beneath me and dragged my knees underneath. My limbs shook as I tried to stand—

—and collapsed again.

Pain lanced up my side. My breath caught. My face smacked the wet ground.

"No," I gasped, my voice raw. "No—no, I can’t..."

But I had to.

I couldn’t let him walk away. Not again. Not with her.

With my last strength, I crawled forward into the center of the courtyard—the shallow rainwater pooling in the basin like a mirror for the clouds above. Blood mixed with the water beneath me, curling like smoke through the silver pool.

Rael had turned to leave.

I reached out with a trembling hand, dragging myself across the stones, muscles screaming, bones grinding.

"Dad—" My voice cracked like the thunder above.

He stopped. Only slightly. Didn’t turn all the way.

I clawed forward a few inches more, my arm stretched out toward him, my fingers barely lifting from the stone. My chest ached, my lungs burned, but none of it hurt more than what I felt inside.

"Don’t leave," I whispered.

Rael turned his head to look back at me.

The soft rain began to plaster my hair to my face, blood dripping from my brow, mingling with the rainwater that filled the air with the scent of earth and iron. My shoulders shook, and I didn’t care how pathetic I looked, soaked and broken in the mud.

I cried, voice raw.

"Don’t leave again."

Rael didn’t speak.

Just stood there, Aelin’s body limp on his shoulder, staring at the broken boy who still called him Dad after everything.

The sky wept above us.

And so did I.

"Dad!!!" I called him out lout, "Please," Then I begged softly